The Story of a Starry Night
by The-stuttering-kiwi
Summary: For the tumblr blog Oh-the-things-we-will-imagine. Bucky's sent on a mission to kill a girl. She gets home and he's waiting for her. But she knows very well how to defend herself and manages to hold him at knifepoint. He's perplexed and he starts getting inklings of the past. He knew her. But who is she now and why is she alive?


_**Song referenced in the story is**_ **The Story of a Starry Night** _ **by Glenn Miller.**_

* * *

The Winter Soldier approached his next kill like had had hundreds of times before. Get the mission. Ask no questions. Stalk. Then kill. His mind was blank save the ever-churning thoughts of tactics and methods of carrying out the deed. Would he make it look like a suicide this time? Or pin it on some misfortunate friend of his target. Either way, he would get the job done. Watching her apartment and movements for the last week he realized he would have to do something quiet, which meant it would have to be quick, and hopefully clean so that SHIELD wouldn't be quick on HYDRA's tail that he had taken out another one of their officials; shouldn't be too hard at all.

Tonight was it. Most of the people in the complex were out, some big party happening in the city, but she had decided to stay in. A single light clicked on in her window as the sun set and his adrenaline started to surge as he began to climb deftly up the fire escape. Easily enough her bedroom window was on one of the levels, usually devoid of emotion he found himself chuckling that her window was opened slightly and there were no measures to ensure her safety—and she was supposed to be one of SHIELDS best operatives.

His steps were muffled on the plush carpet as he made his way to the living room…then it hit him, like a cold hand gripping itself on his vital organs.

 _This is the story of a starry night._

The warbly voice. The unmistakable scratch of a needle on the record. And _her._

 _The faded glory of a new delight  
One breathless meeting,  
Two lips repeating_

Her voice floated delicately over the music as her body swayed—moving with a ghost in her arms.

 _Three precious words that were sweet but fleeting...  
When stars are bright my heart keeps wondering why_

He couldn't move…the hand gripped tighter. A voice in his mind screamed at him to carry out the mission and take her out but it was soon drowned out by something else.

" _ **I wish you didn't have to go." She placed her head on his chest tired but refusing to let him go. Her legs prickled annoyingly, reminding her that they had danced all night, that they were the last couple in the club, save the waiters stacking chairs on the table tops, and the band—the band who seemed to know they needed this last song.**_

" _ **For the first time, I wish I didn't have to either." Bucky murmured against her hair, he could force himself to remember that smell, her smell. Maybe it could bring him back if all he had to do was follow it home.**_

" _ **You better make it back." She lifted her chin to look up at him, suddenly serious; it broke his heart to watch her eyes fill with tears.**_

" _ **I promise." He pressed his lips to hers, savoring—this could bring him back. He knew it. There was no way he could give her up. "When I come home we will start our life together." He promised.**_

 _ **Something strange crossed her face but he shook it off.**_

" _ **Buck—its time." A voice called from the door.**_

Shaking his head against the annoyance of a memory he shoved it aside. Besides this couldn't be her—just the stupid song.

 _Our first "goodnight" became our last goodbye._

Her voice broke.

 _I pray that someday_

 _Love will in some way  
Bring back the story of a starry night._

His eyes caught the shake of her shoulders has her dancing ceased, she threw open the lid of the record player with a sob and wrenched the record free—then smashed it against the table. With a sigh she turned and saw him, eyes narrowing.

"I guess I should be flattered that they sent you." She said after a moment. Although no one ever had a visual on the Winter Soldier she knew it had to be him and with a mask covering most of his face there was no way of telling just who he was, meaning she couldn't give a description—other than the metal arm.

She darted to the left to the gun she had concealed under the coffee table but his heavy body crashed into her—causing her to fly over the couch and into the hutch against the wall. The shards of glass and china splintered their way into her skin as she struggled to right herself but he was instantly on top of her wrapping his metal hand around her throat. Panicking she reached for the knife on the soldier's utility belt, pulling it free then plunging it in his side.

With a howl of pain, he released her and it only took a moment her to get the upper hand—pinning him to the floor with the knife pressed to his neck and keeping his arms twisted behind his back.

"Who are you?"

"I work for HYDRA."

"Thank you for the information I already know." She snarled, then for good measure, jammed her fingers in the wound on his side, earning another yell.

"Who are you?"

"The Winter Soldier." He gasped.

"You are just a wealth of information aren't you?" She ripped the mask of his face; she had to clasp her hand over her mouth to keep from screaming.

"Bucky?"

"Who the hell is Bucky?"

"You!" The knife pressed into his neck causing beads of blood to form along the blade. "But it can't be…"

"What are you talking about?"

Pushing herself off of the body beneath her she scrambled to a chest that was slammed against the wall in their fight and through the lid up with such force she nearly ripped it off. "They sent me these!" A note of hysteria was in her voice, as she threw the dog tags with the name "James Buchannan Barnes" stamped into the metal at him.

Sitting up slowly he read the tags, flashes of someone—sans metal arm—flashed across his mind. "I don't know who this is."

"You! You gave me this remember?!" She dropped to her knees in front of him, shoving her hand under his nose, "Look!"

He needed to hold her wrist steady to get a look at what she was trying to show him—a simple gold band, braided and twisted to look like rope—his grip tightened but she didn't cry out.

" _ **You need to keep this." Bucky slid something on the third finger of her left hand.**_

 _ **Glancing down she saw the gold band "Wha—"**_

" _ **When I get back. I promise."**_

His mind raced with the information HYDRA had given him. She worked for SHIELD. Age was unknown. She was apparently an advanced human—a thorn in HYDRA's side for decades—she looked no different now from his memory other than hairstyle and maybe color.

"How are you the same?" He released her and watched as her hand dropped onto her lap.

"I was going to tell you when you came home."

"It doesn't matter—" he shook his head trying to get rid of the thoughts overriding his orders. "I can't go back without this mission being completed."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"How can he have failed?"

"He said we were wrong about the target. He was unprepared."

"Unprepared?!"

The voices of his handlers sounded furious, the scientists sewed up the wound on his side and taped various other lacerations closed—before strapping him into the chair for his punishment…good old shock therapy.

"That was our chance to get that bitch—now she will know that we are after her."

Bucky smirked as they shoved the mouth guard between his teeth.

"Unprepared." A man scoffed, "Make sure it doesn't happen again."


End file.
